


Le Festin or whatever

by Pastelpop



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3racha run a diner, Again, Alternate Universe - Diners, Fluff, Kim Seungmin & Lee Felix are Best Friends, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Kim Seungmin/Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:35:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastelpop/pseuds/Pastelpop
Summary: Felix tries to prepare a surprise birthday party for his manager. He also can’t stop staring at his arms, but that’s a minor detail.Featuring Seo Changbin, a plate of mildly overcooked (but still edible) Linguine, and his awe-inspiring rendition of the Ratatouille soundtrack.
Relationships: Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Le Festin or whatever

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> Didn't really have a coherent direction with this one other than the initial idea, so this was pretty nice to write. 3racha should definitely run some kind of restaurant or diner. 
> 
> This is my first time trying something more... humorous? Or light hearted, I guess you could say. I'm testing out some new writing things, so bear with me. 
> 
> Happy reading <3

“For the last time, I’m NOT going to teach you how to make a macaron. I don’t even _know_ how to make a macaron, let alone force-feed you the techniques to perfecting French cuisine. We’re a very Asian style diner, those two things have  _ nothing  _ in common.”

As Changbin leans against the frame of the kitchen doorway listening to Seungmin and Felix bicker, he wonders how he ended up hiring the staff that he’s accumulated in the short span of the past few months. He isn’t quite sure if it’s a blessing that he’s pulled together a group of people that actually make an attempt to come to work in a timely manner, or if it’s a curse that  _ these  _ are the bozo’s that he has to keep track of.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves these guys. 

Well, maybe love isn’t the right word. 

He  _ likes _ them from 12:00 in the afternoon to 4:00 in the early evening-ish. In other words, there’s a specific time frame where he feels like being affectionate with them. Afterward, love becomes somewhat of an overly exaggerated and mildly inaccurate term for his relationship with his teammates. By closing time, his sanity is burning its last fuse.

(For most of them, at least; there’s an exception here or there, but Changbin’s greatest skill is his self-denial. Someone else can connect the dots)

Kind of like right now. Hyunjin is putting some random painting they bought off of some sketchy guy on the streets to cover a tomato sauce stain that’s far too large to be disguised (remnants of “the Spaghetti Skirmish” that he and Jeongin had the week prior. Cue the dramatic shudders and goosebumps), and the youngest of the team is sitting out of cleaning duty because he’s busy “cramming for an English exam the next day. He’s putting little effort into hiding the phone that’s perched precariously between the two pages of his foreign language textbook (He catches Jeongin whispering “One more episode,” and decides that he’s just too tired to say anything about it ). 

He’s pretty sure Jisung has just finished his fifth monologue on why the creation of a cheesecake surplus could solve the current economic recession, and  _ god _ he hopes that the loud clang he heard from the janitor’s closet was just Chan and Minho working extra hard to find that mop they had lost a few weeks ago. 

Chan, being the eldest of the bunch and the diner owner, is a tough cookie and a hard worker.

He’s also notorious for having horrible self-control. 

The bruises across his neck as the pair return to the foyer are a testament to that.

So needless to say, Changbin’s patience is running thin.

In all honesty, being the restaurant manager doesn’t really have an official job description. He’s not technically the boss, so he doesn’t have to deal with all the boring business stuff that Chan does behind the scenes. Most of the time he just makes sure everyone's heads are on straight (this is normally the part where Jisung helpfully chimes in with “or gay”) and once in a while he’ll take on the odd jobs that their small staff can’t fill on hectic days. He helps Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin wait the tables when they’ve got good business, he takes over the register when Felix needs to sweep the floors, and he washes the extra dishes so that Minho and Seungmin can focus on making food that’s actually somewhat edible.

Speaking of Seungmin and Felix, those two boys are who he’s looking for currently. 

Well, not them specifically, but rather, Changbin finds his resolve breaking earlier than he anticipated, and he gets the sudden desire to dip into the kitchen with them for a moment to pause and reset. It’s been barely more than an hour since they closed for the night, and yet he’s already exhausted.

The two younger members are busy bickering over the stove as Seungmin stirs something in a large, charred pot. The chef is actually somewhat tolerable in the evenings (as long as you never let him near the speakers. Of course, if you WANT the chorus of Sweet Chaos by Day6 to ear-fuck you for what can feel like an eternity, go right ahead), and Felix is, generally speaking, pretty mellow most hours of the day too. It’s a refreshing change of pace compared to the rambunctious nature of the main dining area, the out-of-tune orchestra that was born from whatever mess of an establishment they were running. 

The two of them continue to discuss Felix’s proposal (in surprisingly riveting detail), unaware of Changbin’s presence - something about Seungmin teaching the other how to make some kind of pasta?   
  


In the end, Changbin has no idea how the restaurant is still open, let alone doing as well as it is, seeing as nobody in the establishment is qualified to be making the food that they serve. 

Seriously, he’s pretty sure that they’re breaking a minimum of, like, seven food safety laws. The two ACTUAL chefs don’t even have the right accomplishments; Seungmin just got the job out of obligation because his Dad used to work the same position, and he’s ninety percent sure that Minho faked half of his resume.

And they STILL let him in.

Just goes to show how desperate they were. 

“I don’t get it, what makes you think I know how to make carbonara? Even more, what makes you think I’m willing to learn  _ just _ so I can teach you? Bitch, I’m already a Korean that was forced to learn how to cook a different kind of Asian food, I am NOT going through that hell again. Also, it’s just pasta; how hard could it be to learn, even for you?”

“Hey! I’m a damn good cook and you know it.” Felix squeaks indignantly. Seungmin momentarily takes his eyes off of the pot to give the older a judging side-glance.

“With all due respect, the only times your dishes are good is when it’s literally  _ required _ that you burn the food past comprehension.”

“Okay,  _ whatever.  _ I’ll stick to baking or something. C’mon, kid? Pull some strings for me this time, hyung needs you.” Felix whines. He latches onto the younger’s arm like a needy sloth, nuzzling his shoulder aggressively. Seungmin gingerly tenses up and jokingly raises his chin as far away from the other as possible.

“Okay, firstly, get your grubby ass hands off of me. Secondly, we’re the same age and I’ve had to spoon feed you before, so you get no elder privileges. Thirdly, Lix, what is this even about? I mean I get that you enjoy cooking, but why French? And all of a sudden?” He asks, his voice poorly concealing minor traces of curiosity. 

At that, it’s as if Seungmin has uncovered some dark, dirty secret that was supposed to be kept locked away from the light of society. A furious red grows across Felix’s face, the rosy hue dampening the depth of his warmer gold skin tone. He visibly hesitates, drawing in a short breath before leaning in to whisper something to Seungmin’s ear, as if what he’s saying was something so precious that it’d be dangerous to say it out loud even when there’s only the two of them in the room.

Well, technically three, but they don’t need to know that Changbin is there.

And it’s funny, because even though he knows it won’t help, he finds himself leaning in further. He’s not sure if he’s trying to hear them better or to see the blush on Felix’s face.

He quickly buries the second alternative without bothering to explore it. There’s no  need to try to dissect that possibility because that’s totally not what he’s trying to do. 

No really, he’s genuinely curious as to why Felix wants to learn how to make French food, because Seungmin wasn’t lying when he said that the guy is only good at cooking food that is  _ supposed  _ to resemble coal.

Besides, it’s not like there’s actually any jealousy that bubbles inside of his stomach as he watches this scene unfold in front of him. There’s nothing wrong with the way Seungmin and Felix lean into each other as though the secrets they’re sharing are a sacred oath. He definitely doesn’t wish he knew how to cook so he could feel what it was like to have the younger’s breath against his ear. He certainly isn’t craving one of Felix’s signature warm and fuzzy hugs, the ones that feel as though they were strung from gold and woven from cotton candy.

Man, he’s really bad at lying to himself. 

When Felix leans away, there’s a knowing and triumphant smirk on Seungmin’s face, and suddenly the Australian doesn’t look as excited as he did a few seconds ago.

“Ohh, that’s what it’s for. Well, why didn’t you just say so?” The chef croons. “I’ll uh, ‘ _ pull some strings _ ’ for you, I think is what you said.” 

“Yes!” Felix shouts in satisfaction before immediately slumping against the younger’s side, his eyes downturned and his mouth pouted melodramatically. “But why doesn’t this feel like a victory?”

“Because you didn’t win.”

Seungmin cackles maniacally to himself as Felix darts out of the room before the younger can inevitably begin teasing him like he always does. About what, Changbin will never know, but he supposes that it’s part of the mystery that makes the diner both infuriating and entertaining. 

(He also makes a mental note to schedule Seungmin for a therapy session afterward, because that laugh was  _ not  _ normal)

Changbin does his best to press himself flat against the wall of the narrow hallway, as if that will somehow hide him from Felix.  He fails miserably, finding himself almost nose to nose with the other boy. The tiny area in the hallway leaves little room for humility and too much space for embarrassment, and Changbin can’t help but feel as though he’s been caught for doing something very, very bad.

Except Felix is looking at him all the same, his eyes wide and guilty like a deer caught in headlights. The yellowish lighting from above does so much for the warmth in his brown eyes, the blush from before burning across his skin in an even deeper shade of red. If anything, it’s as if Felix was the one who was guilty of something.

“Hey.”

  
“Hi!” Felix replies, his normally deep voice uncharacteristically squeaky. 

“You good?” Changbin asks, raising an eyebrow. Felix nods, holding an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as though he’s making an active effort to look Changbin in the face. Not that he’s complaining or anything, but… what’s the saying? “Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?”   
  


Of course, Changbin isn’t necessarily referring to  _ himself _ here.

“I’m  _ great _ .” Felix exclaims overly dramatically. The boy seems to sense it too, wincing slightly when he notices the amused expression that Changbin is sporting. “Shit, that makes it sound like I did something bad. No really, I’m fine. I’m cool. I’m awesome. I’m relaxed. I’m chillin’ like a villain- wait.

At that, Changbin can’t stop the chuckle that erupts from his as Felix stumbles over his words. This is exactly what he came to the kitchen for. The Australian is a nice, comfortable change of rhythm, his presence acting as its own beating drum in the orchestra that is District Wine and Dine. It’s a presence that he finds himself seeking out more often these days, an existence that gives him refuge during his bustling schedule by replacing working hours filled with the smell of clashing iron pots and oyster sauce with soft cotton hugs and the scent of the mint gum that the younger is always chewing. 

“Okay- Stop- “ Felix whines in between Changbin’s laughter. “Shut up, I just spent all my brainpower trying to get Seungmin to do something for me.”

As Felix drags him out by the hand, Changbin wonders if it's odd how easily he focuses on the contact of their skin. He wonders if he should say something when their fingers stay intertwined as they watch the others bustling disorderly around each trying to place the fancy wooden stools onto the tables. He wonders if it makes him a bit of a creep if it meant that  _ this _ would be the seventh Friday in a row where he lets their hands touch for longer than they should before Felix notices and hastily takes his away, hiding his face with a sheepish bow of apology. 

He wonders if it makes him  _ especially _ weird that he’s been keeping count.

  
____

  
  
  


The first time he meets Felix is a few days before the second anniversary of his move to Seoul.

After spending a good few years getting adjusted to the bustling sounds and artificial smells of the city, Changbin falls into an easy tempo as he tries to balance his work and school life. He, Chan, and Jisung all migrate from a small town outside of the main city, taking up a few jobs (ie, becoming the ONLY STAFF) at some diner that Jisung’s aunt owned. It’s a relatively spacious but rundown establishment on the side of some shopping district that isn’t even meant for food, and the ownership is essentially left to the three of them.

Still, they’re young, and the three of them are resourceful kids. Hell, they’re art kids after all, and after a few renovations and modernization of the menu, they make the place work. It’s a nice experience too, which is something that Changbin only admits begrudgingly when he knows the other two are too wasted to remember anything he says the next morning. Painting the walls becomes some balancing act from a freak circus as Chan and Changbin try their best to catch a dangling Jisung before he falls from ladders and unstable stools; their attempts at making carbonara before they end up hiring Seungmin and Minho anyways gives Changbin a few useful humorous anecdotes to use whenever he engages in an awkward conversation with someone new. 

(Spoiler alert: He ends up using it very, very soon, and not in the way he expected).

(“ _ We should just quit, drop out of school, and become a rap trio.”  _ He remembers Jisung laughing as Chan wholeheartedly recites the lyrics to  _ Alexander Hamilton _ into the top of his broomstick.

“ _ We’d be called 3racha, the spiciest boys on the market. Chicks would never get enough of us.”  _ He had replied.

“ _ And dicks too!” Changbin smiles, reaching over to ruffle the younger’s hair. _

_ “Chicks and dicks.”) _

Overall, life is pretty okay. It’s not  _ incredible _ by any means; student loans still exist, and working while studying is exhausting. But still, it’s not bad. He just sort of wishes that some wild coincidence could make it better.

He’s getting ready to close up the diner one particularly tiring night when Seungmin suddenly approaches him.

“Binnie-hyung~” The younger cooes, sliding up to him at the register. Changbin raises a brow skeptically.

“Uh oh, you need something from me, don’t you? You never use honorifics with me.”   
  


“Precisely.”

“Not even gonna deny it?”

“Just for you to not believe me anyway? That’s how civil war begins, keep up.” The younger chirps in an unfittingly cheerful manner. “But yeah, I need… a favour? Well, that’s not quite the word I was looking for - I just need you to do something for me - but it works, I guess.”

“Does it have anything to do with… warfare?” Changbin asks cautiously.

“Well, that particular outcome just depends on how you answer.” The other grins ominously, leaning against the counter with a predictably unreadable look in his eyes. “Did Chan send you a text…” Seungmin pauses and looks down at his phone. “Approximately three minutes ago?”

“You already know Hyunjin stole my phone. Your… ‘himbo’ for lack of better wording, is still trying to figure out my Netflix password or something.” Changbin sighs, resting his weight against the sleek wooden tiling with his forearms.

“Uh, okay, and?” 

“I can’t  _ look _ at my phone if I don’t  _ have _ my phone, scum.”

“ _ Wow, _ harsh.”

“You called me a fucking  _ pig _ .”

“I call anyone who knows  _ any _ English a pig, you aren’t special.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with anything - we’re talking about my phone here.”

“Oh princess, everyone’s gotta do everything for you around here don’t they?” Seungmin sighs in a tone that’s uncharacteristically theatric. 

“I’m literally the store manager?”

“And I was being contemptuous, chill. Just get it back, it’s not that hard.”

“ _ ‘Just get it back, it’s not that hard.’”  _ Changbin repeats mockingly “Just solve world hunger, it’s not that hard. Just stop global warming, it’s not that hard- Bitch, you think I haven’t tried?! Every man is an island, with the exception of Hyunjin. He’s the fucking abyss. Also, stop speaking in big words, my head already feels like it’s gonna explode and you aren’t helping.” Changbin snarks, rubbing his temples. Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“That metaphor doesn’t even make sense. Anyways, just send Jeongin after him, it always works.”

“He already went home.”

“Gross, I guess I have to embarrass myself then. Whatever, it’s a necessary sacrifice.” Seungmin says with a pinched look on his face, stretching his arms. The expression immediately dissolves when Hyunjin walks around the corner, an easy smile and bright gleam in his eyes replacing the desolate expression from before. 

“Jinnie! I like, uh... I like your hair! Did you do something different with it today?” Seungmin asks in an artificially cute tone. The older stares at him blankly, absentmindedly brushing a hand through his unchanged mop of thick hair.

“We live together?”

“Well, it looks great.”

“...You need something from me, don’t you?”

“That’s  _ exactly _ what I said!” Changbin shrieks.

“Why does  _ everyone _ think that?!” Seungmin groans, immediately dropping the facade. “I mean they aren’t wrong, but STILL-”

“Um, because this is the third time it’s happened?” Hyunjin replies.

“FOURTH.” Changbin supplies helpfully as he points to himself (he feels as though it’s important that he makes himself known. The other guys have a habit of pretending like he doesn’t exist). Seungmin grumbles, turning away with a petulant pout on his lips.

“Whatever, this is more work than it’s worth.” 

“Hey hey, don’t leave me hanging like that. I technically never said no.” Hyunjin adds mischievously, pulling Seungmin back by his sleeve before the two are left standing barely a breath away from each other. Changbin resists the urge to gag.

Seriously, the last time he did that, he had to go home late after Minho gave him an earful about respecting his and Chan’s relationship. Did respecting their relationship mean watching them stick their tongues down each other’s throats? Changbin would argue otherwise. He’d rather die of nausea. Can someone die of nausea? Only one way to find out, and if he has to continue to watch the scene in front of him unfold, he’d wager that he’s about to find out real soon.

He utterly fails to prevent the vile feeling that builds in his gut, and he reaches for a towel. He’s pretty sure the other two can’t hear him though. They probably wouldn’t care either. The one time he’s sarcastic and nobody sees him, just his luck. 

“Can I have Bin’s phone? I gotta show something to him.” Seungmin grins, squeezing the other’s forearms. Hyunjin frowns.

“I’m trying to decrypt this piece of shitty technology though. There’s only a week left before they start taking all of the Harry Potter movies down.”

“Nerd.”

“If I remember correctly, you were the only one who started crying when Dobby died. That was the first time I’ve seen you cry, Seungmin. It was absolutely traumatizing.” Hyunjin shudders. Seungmin pinches his arm, prompting a startled yelp from the taller.

“We  _ never _ speak of that display of emotions.”

“Sure, whatever. It was cute though.”

“It was HUMILIATING-”

“Okay, am I gonna get my phone back or what? I really want to go home. Actually, scratch that, I  _ need _ to go home or I WILL faint from exhaustion and it’ll be  _ your _ guys’ fault.” Changbin interrupts. Seungmin rolls his eyes again, ignoring him.   
  


“I’ll pay for it out of my already declining bank account. Or better yet, just get Jeongin to steal his parents' account or something. I don’t know; they’re rich, they probably have one. Plus they like us, so I doubt they’d say anything.” Seungmin asserts reasonably, gratefully plucking the familiar sleek, black phone out of Hyunjin’s hands as the taller reluctantly holds it out to him. The youngest grins sweetly, tilting his head up slightly to press a quick peck against Hyunjin’s cheek.

“C’mon, you go first, I’ll catch up with you later. Don’t try to cook anything until I get back, even if Jeongin is there!” Seungmin shouts after the head of blonde hair that disappears out the door. Changbin sighs, briefly wondering why anybody in the diner puts up with their antiques. Seungmin turns to him, holding his phone out with both hands and his head bowed.

“Your majesty.”

“What’s with you today? You’re so… excessive.”

“Just open the damn phone, I’m curious too.”

After a second of trying to figure out what he’s looking for after that confusing mess of an interaction, a few scrolls through his chat history with Chan leads him to an oddly ominous message from a few minutes ago. It’s suspiciously short, standing in stark contrast to the previous novel of a text that the older had sent him (without going into too much detail, Changbin had to make several notes to never ask Chan about his sleeping problems again. It’s written and furiously circled a few times in that weird-ass little agenda that he keeps by the cash register. It’s just THAT important of a thing to remember).

“‘ _ We’ve got a round of interviews for another server. Here’s the list. Be ready.'’” _ Changbin reads off of his phone, looking up at the other. Seungmin responds with a look on his face that makes it look like he’s swallowed a lemon.

“The hell, is he threatening you?”

“That’s what I’m wondering. No date, no extra details, just a very, very menacing omen.” He grumbles, holding the device to the side to let Seungmin see. The younger leans over, scanning over the short assembly of interviewees before letting out a delighted squeak as his eyes land on the very last name.

“Holy shit, he got in. Thank god, the emotional manipulation on Chan worked.” Seungmin sighs in relief, a rare smile forming on his lips. Changbin gives him a judgmental side-eye.

“You really couldn’t just tell me someone was coming in in a few days for the new position?” He asks incredulously.

“I didn’t know about it either.” Seungmin shrugs. “Chan was being all weird and freaky about it, telling me to ask you about something big that would be happening over the next week.”

The bored and tired look on the younger’s face suddenly morphs back into a rare expression of relief and happiness as he takes Changbin’s phone to look at the list again. An uncharacteristic sense of calm washes over Seungmin as he gratefully hands the device back to the older. 

“A friend of mine got accepted for an interview,” Seungmin answers his unspoken question with ease and excitement. “Felix. You might’ve seen or heard from him actually; he’s on a different campus but you’re both psych majors.”

“Never heard of him. Exchange kid?” Changbin asks curiously. He’s not that used to hearing English names around here.

Seungmin nods, fighting to keep the diabolical grin out of his face as the two of them pack up to leave the diner. “Mhm. That’s how I got Chan to let him pass the first round of interviews- I thought he’d be able to empathize with Lix or something. But also, if anybody deserves the position, it’s him.”

The two of them walk out of the restaurant into the addicting summer breeze, the warm winds lightly brushing against their faces. Changbin turns to lock up for the night as Seungmin stands beside him, waiting before they continue to meander away without much hurry.

“Just uh… go easy on him? And like, be optimistic. He’s a good worker, and I think you’ll like him. You can do that weird and creepy thing where you stare at them for an uncomfortably long period of time ‘cause you think they’re hot. He’ll probably like the attention.” Seungmin drawls. Changbin feels the tips of his ears heat up, and he stubbornly pulls the hood of his sweater over his head.

“I do NOT do that.” He replies indignantly.

“Right, and Minho doesn’t want to fuck Chan.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m not a liar either.”

“You’re literally the most deceptive and manipulative person I’ve ever met.” Changbin wrinkles his nose judgmentally. Seungmin snorts in amusement.

“Uh, you’ve met Minho, so you’re wrong there, I guess.”

“Touche. Whatever, I’ll let him in if I feel like he’s competent.”

“Firstly, you, Chan, and Jisung let all of us in after we forged our resumes. Secondly.” Seungmin turns in front of him, an eyebrow raised challengingly and his arms crossed in front of him. “If you hurt his feelings, I  _ will _ set you on fire and proceed to burn the building down.”

“Why did I hire you?”   
  


“Again, the whole arson thing.”

“Right.”

  
  
___

Predictably, just before closing the exact same time a few days later, a blonde-haired boy arrives in the store, standing awkwardly by the entrance of the diner just before they close. 

Additionally, just as predictably, Changbin didn’t realize that this was someone who he was supposed to recognize until quite a bit later (because obviously, if Changbin doesn’t make an embarrassing mistake at least twice a day, then he isn’t Changbin for that day).

“Who’s the new kid?” Jisung mused, sliding up beside him. The two of them continue to observe the stranger, who keeps opening his mouth at every person who walks by before closing it in hesitation, raising his hand weakly as if he wants to ask them something.

“No idea.” He replies. The other hums, leaning against the long counter behind them.

“He’s cute.”

“Don’t tell me you’re already drooling over a customer. It’s only been a day since the last one.”

“Hey, this is a drastic improvement to last year. I’ve narrowed my thirst count to nine times a week  _ maximum _ . Also, you’re one to talk; look at me while I’m talking, creep.” Jisung snaps a finger in front of his face, dragging his attention away from the boy he didn’t realize he was watching so closely.

“It’s cause I didn’t wanna look at your face.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve established that you don’t have good taste.”

“Oh shut up, go clean some dishes or something.”

The younger rolls his eyes, disappearing behind the kitchen door to likely annoy Jeongin again. Changbin leaves the counter as well, turning to the backroom to find Chan, missing the way the mystery boy reaches his hand out to him. He’s got a lot of work to do before he can go home for the evening.

Except even as they begin to officially lock up, the boy is still there, fidgeting nervously with the bright character keychain on his phone. Changbin wonders if he’s waiting for one of the staff before realizing that almost everyone has already gone home, save for Seungmin and  _ maybe _ Jeongin depending on how long that last episode he was watching was. He’s also not surprised that nobody bothered to speak with the boy, seeing as they’re all horrible at both customer service and social interaction. It’s surprising - almost inspiring - that they’re still in business.

Quickly, he dips into the kitchen, hoping to find someone who can explain the odd and ephemeral new presence in the diner. He runs into Seungmin, the younger currently busied by the excessively large quantities of cutlery that they have. He hears Seungmin complaining to himself about how  _ “we’ve got enough cutlery for the entire country to eat a meal, yet every time I need a fucking fork Minho says we don’t have any” _ and Changbin stops to contemplate whether this is a good time. Unfortunately, he’s feeling curious today.

Before he can ask, Seungmin swivels his head around, dipping his head in some half-assed attempt at a greeting before speaking.

“Hey, how’d it go?”

“How’d it go?” Changbin echoes. Seungmin tilts his head, turning back to the shelves to organize the already perfectly aligned wine glasses.

“Yeah, I talked to him really quickly before my shift ended, but I was about to burn another chicken boob so I had to run off.”

  
“What?”

“Felix? How’d the interview go?”

  
  
“ _ What?” _

The younger blinks at him as his eyes widen. Realization dawns over Changbin, and he feels the familiar sense of impending doom crawling ominously up his spine. Seungmin places the mug he’s holding on the counter as gently as he can, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Changbin, please tell me you remembered that you were having an interview today.”

His silence is more than enough of an answer.

“You have two seconds to get your ass out of here and apologize to the poor guy before I give you jaw surgery with a frying pan.”

The blast of cold air that leaves the room as he dashes out of the kitchen makes him want to tear his skin off, the chilling presence following him to the dining area. He’s pretty sure the freezing halt he comes to in front of the other boy startles the lavender-haired stranger even more, if the frightened yelp that he lets out is any indication of that.

“Hey!”

“Oh god.”

“Sorry. You good, Felix?” Changbin asks cautiously, raising his hands harmlessly. 

The other smiles easily, and for a second he wonders if there’s a sun or some other tiny celestial body on the indoors of this diner that now appears drab and dusty in comparison to the wattage of this stranger’s grin.

The first thing he notices is the hair. It’s like a cloud, except airy wisps trade themselves for lavender petals. It’s soft and fluffy, the strands twirling together like an elegant bouquet as the dull copper lighting from above gives the boy a violet halo. He busies himself on these details in the convenient amount of time it takes for Felix to reorient himself, feeling guilty remorse when he realizes he actually has to speak to the boy instead of just observing him.

“I’m  _ great,  _ thank you for asking.” He stops himself, bowing in a way that could almost come off as exaggeratory if not for the dazed look on his face as he clumsily raises his body. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m-”

The boy pauses again, a confused look interrupting what sounded like a rehearsed and planned out speech. The nervous yet excited twist to his eyes is replaced by wide-eyed curiosity.

“Wait, you already know who I am?”

“Huh? Oh,” Changbin claps his hands. “Yeah, sorry about that. Pardon my, ahem, for lack of better wording - really shitty time management. Your… friend? Seungmin - if you’re crazy enough to call him your friend - told me you’d be coming in today. We can start the interview now- or actually, um, sorry I should make this more official. Shall we begin reviewing your application for a position at District Wine and Dine?” 

Internally, he curses himself for acting so nervously, for jumping around each other in awkwardly alternating syllables like some ridiculous dance. Sure, he might’ve totally fucked up, but that doesn’t mean he has to act like a humiliating mess for the first time he meets this kid that somehow makes him nervous.

Except the giggle that the boy lets out sounds like the clinking of fragile glass, reverberating against the walls in his head even as they sit down across each other at the counter, and for a few seconds, Changbin can convince himself that he hasn’t completely made a fool of himself.

They each have a glass of iced coffee in front of them, to which Felix gratefully downs half the glass in the span of exactly four seconds. He’s, in all honesty, pretty impressed; those eco-friendly straws are notoriously difficult to drink out of. The other boy has his hands wrapped around the glass like a small child, the sleeves of his sweater covering the delicate fingers that are gripping tightly to the drink.

“Damn,” Changbin says in awe as he watches the other chug away. “You good? Do you want a refill?”

It’s almost comical, the way Felix stops half-chug to stare at him, glass still tilted upwards and all. Sheepishly, he places the glass back to the table with a satisfying ‘ _ clink’.  _ The red from his ears spreads across his face like a sunset, highlighting the freckles that Changbin is now cursing himself for not noticing earlier. 

They’re cute.

It’s simple wording to describe something that doesn’t need much else to exemplify just how enchanting it is; like an artist flicking a paintbrush of umber watercolour against a canvas of warm paleness. The entire palette of the other male seems like something a designer would pick to create a bedroom for a child, all warm pastels and fluffy sunset colors.

“Sorry, I ran all the way here because I thought I was gonna be late. Um… I guess it all worked out in the end though.” Felix looks down again, somehow becoming even redder. Changbin catches on immediately, and he has no idea how the other could be embarrassed when it’s supposed to be HIM that’s humiliated.

“Right. Uh, sorry about that. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. Did you know goldfish don’t actually have a memory span of three seconds? Apparently, they’re actually way smarter than what we think of them. Just, um, something… I thought… was cool.” His words die off at the end, and suddenly he feels to dunk his head in a fishbowl. 

“No, no! It’s okay, I think that’s really interesting. I used to have fish and I thought it was really weird how they’d remember me when I pet them, so it makes a lot of sense.” Felix says frantically, flashing an anxious grin. Changbin returns the smile, tilting his head.

“You can pet a fish?”

“Oh, um, yeah. When I was little I’d put my finger into the water and sometimes they’d come up and touch it with their fins. It probably helped that my hands were kinda small back then, they wouldn’t be too scared of them. I wouldn’t be able to do it now though, I’ve grown. And also, they’re, you know, dead?” Felix raises his hands.

_ They’re still tiny though _ he thinks amusedly to himself, and unconsciously he raises his hand to compare with the other before he can stop himself. He naturally narrates his thoughts, unable to stop himself. Felix giggles, his eyes disappearing behind little crescent moons.

“Compared to yours they are.”

But of course, Changbin realizes that he’s intertwining fingers with a fucking  _ stranger _ and thankfully pulls away before things can get awkward.

Except it DOES get awkward when he knocks his coffee over and sends the cup flying across the smooth concrete floors. Thankfully, the cup is plastic, but the unpleasant sound of his beverage spilling across the ground is enough to make him flinch. Felix looks away simultaneously, a matching red blooming across his cheeks as he politely stifles another laugh. He suddenly seems riveted by the lighting fixture on the ceiling, which Changbin couldn’t blame him for. It’s a very interesting lighting fixture. Steel. Aluminum plated. Bronze accents. LED lights. Other jargon terms he can pull from his ass. Very fascinating.

“Alright.” Changbin opens his laptop and places a few documents beside him on the table. He raises his eyes as threateningly as he can. Judging from the lack of fear in the other’s eyes and the overwhelmingly precious excitement in his smile, Changbin is pretty sure he’s failing miserably.

“Do you have a resume I could look at?” He asks. 

The other makes a small noise of acknowledgment, pulling a thin plastic binder from the bag that he’s slung on the chair behind him. It’s pristinely kept but still slightly bent around the edges, as though the futile attempts at keeping the poor thing tidy were no match for the wrath of his backpack. It’s a light pink color, completely unprofessional and unapologetically sporting a roster of cartoonish characters all across the fine print. The paper is a bit surprising, unorthodox in a way that makes Changbin almost choke on his coffee as Felix innocently places the document in front of him. 

Again,  _ really fucking cute. _

The resume might be solid, but it isn’t anything mindblowing. Among the titles and accomplishments listed, there are a few volunteer gigs, a charity event, and some odd jobs here and there, none of which are related to the position that the younger is applying for.

Speaking of which…

“So, Felix.” Changbin raises his head. “What made you apply?”

“Oh, um, I really need the money, and Seungmin said that a place opened here, so it wasn’t a hard choice to make.” He replies, his words slow and sporadic as his syllables stumble out of his pretty pink lips. It’s difficult for Changbin to NOT focus on them.

The world pauses temporarily when he hears Felix’s answer, not in the grandiose or dramatic way but in the way your perception of time stops when you can’t really believe what you’ve just heard. It’s wildly unprofessional, and in any other setting, he probably would’ve immediately been struck from the hiring list. Still, Changbin sort of appreciates the blunt honesty. Most people would typically reply with some sob story about how much they loved cuisine, how much this restaurant meant to their childhood despite Changbin never remembering their faces, or an elaborate scheme on how this was such a “valuable opportunity” to become more involved in the food industry.

So basically, the classic, sugar-coated interview shit that he’s tired of hearing every single time.

Of course, he still has to ASK Felix to make up for his lacking resume. Admittedly, he feels a bit guilty when he does so, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Do you… have any experience in the position that you’re applying for? Believe it or not, serving and inventory management needs some pretty specific credentials before we hire you, and bussing is no easy feat either. Because um, carrying plates with food is... hard?” He asks.

Great, he’s still got his wonderfully shitty way with words.

“No.” Felix says innocently, probably more direct than he realizes. “But I’m willing to learn, and I adapt really quickly. I’ll catch onto things real fast, and I promise that I’m a great worker once I get settled.

So Changbin reasons that that’ll probably be the best answer he’s going to get tonight.

Despite the struggle in his words as he works through the difficult language, Changbin can’t help but notice the sudden spark that ignites in the younger’s eyes as he replies. Whether it’s because of the money or the genuine desire to get the position, he notices the way his shoulders rise. It’s interesting that, even with the less expansive vocabulary, Felix seems more willing to take the position than any of the other candidates that undoubtedly had more experience or a better understanding of how grammar worked. 

“While I applied for being a server, I promise that I can make anything work. If you need a cashier, I can do it. If you need another cook, I’ll figure it out.”

“Well we certainly could use more cooks, but I don’t think you’d want to join the two back there. Wait till you hear about the Beef Brisket Battle of 19’.” Changbin jokes before catching the way Felix is staring at him. “That sounded lame. Uh... We take our work very seriously.”

It all of a sudden occurs to him that it seems like he’s planning on telling Felix about their escapades in the future. 

“Were you losers talking about me and my sous-chef Lucifer?” Seungmin’s voice suddenly appears out of thin air, as if his being had materialized out of nothing. His arm loops comfortably around Felix’s thin shoulders, easily resting against the other’s side now that he’s changed out of his kitchen garments into something more breathable.

“Hey, this is a formal interview, Min.” Changbin frowns, tapping the end of his pen on the resume in front of him. Seungmin turns to look before appearing to fight down a small giggle when his eyes settle on the decorative page. Unfortunately, Changbin agrees with him, echoing the both amused and pitying gaze that Seungmin sends. When he tries to send back an equally meaningful gaze, as if he was actually being serious, Seungmin snorts.

“Formal? Uh, really? The whole…” Seungmin holds his hands together, imitating the way Changbin and Felix intertwined their fingers before. “...tells me otherwise.”

At that, Felix flushes a furiously deep red, and Changbin thinks he’s probably doing the same except, damn, he probably doesn’t look as good. He never knew a blush could look prettier when it was dotted with melanin constellations. 

But also: SEUNGMIN, READ THE ROOM.

The sound of his pen dropping and his startled coughing echo in a seemingly infinite loop in the quiet diner. Felix goes to take a sip of his coffee before realizing it’s empty and setting it down awkwardly with the gentle tinkling of ice cubes.

“Hm. Seems I’ve hit a nerve.” Seungmin murmurs amusingly, seemingly unbothered.

“I’d tell you that both of our chefs are actually devil-spawn, but I’d assume that you already know this one.” Changbin clears his throat. Felix nods, likely eager to change the topic.

“Unfortunately. I had to live with this freak of nature for two weeks when I first moved. I’ve never felt so unholy.” 

“Rude. Also, you say that as if  _ you _ were the one who had a rough time. I’m already babysitting two overgrown children half the time; adding a  homesick-Australian toddler to the equation did NOT help me.” 

“I HEARD THAT.” Jeongin shouts from somewhere in the back, likely changing.

“I know you did!” Seungmin shouts back cheerfully, rolling his eyes as he rests his head on Felix’s tuft of fluffy hair. A tired breath of relief leaves his mouth. “Y’know, for all the fine specimens that my love handles, under-eye bags, and shitty attitude could have gotten me, I can’t believe I still ended up with a dramatic Legolas who can’t cook and that tall, refreshing glass of…. Gasoline.” 

“Spare us the descriptions of your romantic captives. Is the gasoline because he’s hot? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?” Felix asks exasperatedly, shuddering. Seungmin grins.

“No, it’s because most days I wanna set him on fire.”

“So dump them, idiot.” Felix jokes. Seungmin narrows his eyes at him.

“I’m not  _ dumping _ them.”

“They’re a bad idea.”

“They’re MY bad ideas.”

With that, all formality is abandoned, along with Changbin’s already sinking pride. Closing his laptop, he busies himself with attempting to clean up his materials for the day. As he watches the two people in front of him bicker, he realizes that a little part of him likes this - this odd feeling of domesticity and untouchedness that comes with any interaction under the roof of the diner. It’s warm and comfortable at the moment.

His interview notes are all incoherent scribbles and bad attempts at making it seem like he was paying attention to vivid details. They’ll be useless to him when he’s evaluating the interviewees, but with how easily his vision vignettes when his eyes settle on Felix, he has a feeling that making a decision won’t be difficult. It’s the farthest from professionalism, but since when has the staff here ever been professional?

But perhaps he does have a reason for deciding so quickly that Felix is the right pick for the job because it just  _ makes sense _ . It’s so easy to envision him working here, with how smoothly the words flow between him and Seungmin. It’s so easy to envision him getting along with the rest of the staff, to see him working the same shifts and jobs as them. It’s so easy to imagine him fitted in the server’s uniform, the dress shirt clinging delicately to his lithe frame-

Maybe Changbin is a bit biased.

It’s not until he sees Seungmin grinning at him from across the table as Felix rambles off about something unrelated does he realize that he’s smiling too, his chin resting in his palm as he stares almost instinctively at the lavender haired boy.

_ “You can do that weird and creepy thing where you stare at them for an uncomfortably long period of time ‘cause you think they’re hot. He’ll probably like the attention.” _

Shit, he’s doing the thing.

  
_____

  
  
  


“You really need to get laid, man.”

Out of surprise, his hand slips as he sorts through the last of his papers, hissing as a thin line of red appears across a finger. He coughs, spinning around and glaring at Seungmin.

“ _ Timing,  _ you idiotic asshole.” Changbin clears his throat.

“Rude. I was simply making a very well-founded observation. Poor Felix - I gotta say though, the guy probably enjoyed it. You’re practically perfect for him.” Seungmin sighs, leaning against the counter.

“Shut up. Having daily threesomes has NOT been helping your already vulgar personality.” 

“As if someone like me has that kind of energy. Now  _ you _ on the other hand - you hypersexual gremlin - are a starkly different story. What was it this time… you liked his lips, didn’t you? Or was it the freckles-”

“OH MY GOD please  _ leave _ .”

“Sorry,  _ I  _ wasn’t the one hiding a hard-on under the table.”

“I was NOT  _ hard _ -” Changbin sputters.

“You haven’t answered the question yet so I’ll just assume it was the freckles. God, you absolute freak of nature, who knew it was possible to get turned on by  _ freckles-” _

“I’m GOING to fire you. I DO NOT care if you burn down the building. No pun intended.”

“Thanks for the consent, but that still isn’t an answer. Of course, our resident princely Changbin could never lie. It’s okay man, I support you. I’m sure there’s  _ some _ fetish out there-”

“STOP.”

  
  


_____

  
  
  


As Changbin watches Felix practically  _ skip _ into work the next week on his first day wearing a uniform that lives exactly up to his expectations (not that Changbin had any prior expectations to begin with), he thinks that there’s far more for him to admire than just  _ freckles _ .

But yeah, the freckles are pretty hot. What can he say? He’s a freak of nature, and sometimes biology just doesn’t make any sense.

  
  


____

  
  
  


The first night after his first shift at the diner, Felix finally comes to understand what it means to have trouble sleeping because of someone.

It’s a pretty familiar scene actually, when he first walks into the diner. He’s better at recognizing when it happens now, but he still can’t stop his eyes from widening like dinner plates, his gaze darting nervously from table to table. Even after he ducks into the washroom to change into his uniform, there’s still an odd stumble to his steps. 

Although, he’s not sure where stumbles turn into excited sprints instead. Part of him is excited, and not just because this is is his first actual job. Excluding maybe Seungmin, there are new faces to memorize too. 

Well, there’s one face that he’s already quite familiar with, but he’s still looking forward to seeing him too. 

He’s not exactly sure who his boss is, but if the scrappy text message he receives two minutes before the house tells him anything, it’s that they’re terribly illiterate - and that’s coming from someone who has the language skills of a kindergartener. Still, Seungmin assures him that the chips will fall into place when he gets there. Not the most helpful information, but it gives him a very small spark of hope that things will turn out okay. 

Except when he does get there, the stressful few seconds that Seungmin does spare him is promptly interrupted by him a concerningly loud crashing sound from the kitchen, attracting a few horrified glances from the many, many customers around them. The younger sighs, closing his eyes as he whispers to himself “ _ Jisung got into the clam chowder again.” _

And with that, as Seungmin rushes into the back, the most valuable pieces of information he gets from that interaction are an (almost) comforting pat on the back and an ominous  _ “if anybody bothers you, just scream REALLY loudly and say that we have TECHNICALLY have a flamethrower in the back. Don’t ask, I’ll fill you in later.” _

Again, not the most helpful information, but since when has Seungmin been of any help?

That’s actually a complete lie; the poor guy is the one who helped him land this (already very confusing) job, after all. Still, in powerless moments like these ones, he needs  _ someone  _ to direct his anger at. 

And so there he’s left, standing awkwardly by the sidebar twiddling with the ties on his waiter’s apron as he marinades in the deliciously horrifying sauce of inevitable dread and anger.

“Felix’s first Friday. Damn, listen to that onomatopoeia. I’m a fuckin’ literary genius.”

His head swivels to the sound of Changbin’s familiar voice. A mop of thick, black hair comes into his vision, so dark it’s almost blue. He joins him at the bar, his elbows resting casually against the countertop as he sends him a smile that’s actually reassuring this time. Almost out of instinct, Felix jumps a little on the spot, turning to him and bowing deep enough to almost hit his head on the hardwood Changbin is leaning against.

“Hi! Or um, good afternoon! I’m Felix.” He sputters nervously. Internally, he cringes. They literally already know each other, he’s just making a damn fool out of himself at this point. What is it with him and shitty introductions?

His mind flashes back to how badly the interview had gone last week, and suddenly part of him just  _ really _ hopes that Changbin would have miraculously forgotten about him by now.

Except the only reply he gets is a hearty laugh, the older gently placing his hands on his shoulders as he gently guides Felix back up.

“So you already can’t remember my face, kid? I’m hurt, I’ve already memorized yours.” Changbin chuckles before his cheeks heat up and his eyes widen as he realizes what he just said. It’s cute in an unexpected kind of way, but Felix crushes the thought before he gets too far with it. “Um, not in a weird way though. It’s just 'cause, y-you know, we’ve already met because of the interview and it’s not because I find you good looking or anything - NOT that you AREN’T cute ‘cause you ARE but - oh god, can you just let me show you around?”

And just like that, Changbin’s seemingly untouchable confidence and charisma fizzle to the ground, leaving behind a sputtering and adorably confused mess with a hand over his reddening face. With it, Felix feels his previous nervousness and anxiety dissolve as well. 

Unfortunately, this time, he can’t stop himself from thinking that Changbin looks especially good when he’s grinning so sheepishly like this. 

  
  


____

  
  
  


If a brief introduction of a building and the people inside of it is considered a tour, Changbin’s little show of the restaurant felt more like a very intimate handshake with a few select “employees”.

And by employees, Felix wasn’t even referring to real people. He did, however, get to see the supply closet in the back, the one hallway with the washrooms, the cash register, and the entrance of the kitchen. Just the entrance.

(“We typically avoid going in there during work hours. Unless you don’t value your life or you’re hungry, you’ll do the same.” Changbin had mused, feigning an ominous voice.

“Isn’t eating a part of life?” Felix asked.

“A human can survive for up to three months without food. You’ll be lucky to still have your legs attached to your body for more than five minutes in there.”

“That doesn’t sound biologically accurate.”

“The rules of reality do not apply in... _ there. _ ” And he sounds so serious that Felix almost believes him.)

“Once in a while, you’ll need to come back here to pick up something for the chefs.” Changbin motioned to the supply closet. This seemed to be the last stop of the tour. “Closet” hardly seemed to be an accurate description though. Not only was the room nearly half the size of the main dining area, but a questionably large walk-in fridge was placed at the end as well. 

“I see. Is there just not enough space in the kitchen or something?” Felix asks.

“I guess. Seungmin and Minho, even with all of their… discrepancies, are both neat freaks, so they both weren’t too fond of  _ more _ stuff cluttering up an already pretty tiny cooking area. Plus, the place came with the fridge and everything even before we renovated the place, so…”

“Woah, you guys renovated this place all on your own?” He asks curiously before making a noise of recognition. His mouth moves before he can stop it. “Oh right! Seungmin said you guys started the diner up all on your own! That’s so impressive.”

“That’s… very nice of you to say.” Changbin replies awkwardly, reddening. Suddenly, Felix worries that he’s made him nervous. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry, I know that that sort of came out of nowhere, I just kind of said it without thinking.” He responds quickly, lowering his head in embarrassment. 

“No really, I meant that. It’s fine.” The older smiles. “I’m just… not really good at responding to compliments I guess.” Felix frowns.

“That hardly makes sense, there’s a lot to compliment - I’m sure.” He replies, a little too enthusiastically. 

“There is?” Changbin blinks owlishly at him. 

“For sure!”

“You’ll have to do that more often than.”

  
  
  


____

  
  
  


And so at some point, the mindless scrolling through his phone turns into the numb blank stares that pass by mindlessly in the uncountable minutes of the twilight zone. Late nights and early mornings like these ones make him curse himself, make him doubt if he’s really as good as adjusting as he tells himself he is. Suddenly, home feels like it’s a world away instead of just a plane ride. The dark feels like it’s hiding a boogie man again, and the dingy studio apartment feels both wondrously large yet claustrophobically cramped. He misses being able to talk to Seungmin in those first few weeks in such an unfamiliar concrete jungle, where he could lay out his guts and ramble on about how such trivial worries are unworthy of these emotions that always feel too large to comprehend. It keeps him awake at night, but at least Seungmin is always awake.

Sometimes, when he feels small like this, he likes to think of familiar, kinder things. 

The only problem is that nothing in the city feels familiar , and Seungmin and his “roommates” faces are only so entertaining to think about before they become disturbingly annoying.

But tonight, his mind naturally drifts to quieter things, no less unfamiliar than the city. For the first time, he gets to think of the diner. Perhaps Felix feels small and out of place in Seoul, but that might just be why District Wine and Dine suddenly feels like an odd source of kinship. In its strange little street corner with its strange little menu and even stranger little people, he thinks that looking at the restaurant is like looking at the architectural mirror to his painfully lost soul. 

But when his mind shifts to a deeper voice and even deeper eyes, he’s pulled out of his trance. Suddenly, his ears warm up, and he finds himself missing the cooling fatigue from three seconds ago. 

Still, it helps him feel less empty, or at least it lets him feel like being small doesn’t scare him as much as it used to. 

Sometimes, when he feels small like this, he likes to think of familiar, kinder things.

Changbin is not familiar, but he’s made of kinder things. Warmer things. Like the diner.

Sleep doesn’t come easily afterward. It’s like how he’d have trouble closing his eyes when he had just finished reading a good story or an exciting segment of a video game he had picked up. It stays imprinted into every corner of his mind, burned into the back of his eyelids like a vivid image that’s clear even in sleep.

It’s sort of like right now, with the feeling of the ghosts of fingertips dancing lightly across the surface of his arms and his shoulders like skipping stones across molten lava. 

The circles under his eyes are deep and dark when he wakes up the next day, but he doesn’t mind. His brain feels drowsily drunk on fatigued bliss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that Felix's first Friday is only onomatopoeia in English. Sue me.
> 
> Can anyone else read any of their old drafts or works? Because I sure as hell can't. 
> 
> The arms come in later lol.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
